The Tenth Year of Adoption

The first time I saw Charles Johnson, he stood beside the weathered iron gate of the orphanage. The hem of his black coat fluttered in the autumn wind, like a crow spreading its wings. He extended his hand towards me, his knobby fingers adorned with a platinum ring that gleamed so fiercely in the sunlight I could barely keep my eyes open. "From now on, you shall be called Yvonne Johnson." His voice was colder than the late autumn mist, "Come home with me." The Johnson Family Villa was vast and labyrinthine, like a maze. The crystal chandelier cast delicate shards of light upon the polished marble floor, and I was always afraid I might shatter those fleeting patches of radiance beneath my feet. Nanny Dawson fashioned sweet treats for me each day, with the cream atop the strawberry mousse cloyingly sweet. Charles Johnson would take me to the study after dinner; he sat on the leather sofa reading documents while I lay on the carpet, leafing through fairy tales. The scent of cedar mingled with a faint trace of tobacco on him; as it drifted across the pages and into my nostrils, I always felt an extraordinary sense of comfort. When I was fifteen, I fell grievously ill with a high fever. In a daze, I felt someone touching my forehead—cool fingers brushing over scorching skin. I clasped that hand tightly, unwilling to let go, as if grasping a lifeline. "Charles Johnson." I buried my face in his palm, tears wetting the cuff of his costly shirt, "Please don't leave me." He remained silent for a long while, so long that I thought he had fallen asleep. Then, I heard his voice sigh softly above me: "Foolish girl, how could I ever not want you." On my eighteenth birthday, Charles Johnson presented me with a diamond necklace. The scattered diamonds formed stars that lay cool against my collarbone. He stood behind me, his hands resting gently on my shoulders. The man in the mirror bore a look I could not fathom in his eyes, like a bottomless, glacial pool. "Yvonne Johnson, you have grown." His breath fell upon the hollow of my neck, carrying a dangerous heat: "It is time to learn what it means to be a woman." That night, he did not return to his own room. Moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains, weaving a silver net upon the sheets. I curled into his embrace, listening to the steady beat of his heart, believing that was eternity. He began to stay in my room more and more often. Sometimes he returned late at night, reeking of alcohol, roughly tearing off my nightgown. Other times, he would gently kiss the crown of my head, whispering countless tender words into my ear. I am like a dodder vine, entwining this towering tree, gradually losing the ability to grow independently. Until that morning. I woke in his arms as he stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, speaking on the phone. The curtains were drawn just enough to cast his shadow long and stretched. "Mike Shane, is there news from the Xavier Family?" His voice was cold as ice: "Tell Zachary Xavier, at next month's business summit, I will give him a surprise." I held my breath, my fingertips digging into my palm. Zachary Xavier—this name was like a needle, piercing my heart unawares. "Yvonne?" Charles Johnson turned around, his face once again wearing the habitual gentleness, "Awake?" I forced a stiff smile and buried my face in the quilt: "I want to sleep a little longer." He came over and lifted the quilt, his cool fingers brushing my cheek: "Today, I'll take you to see the new apartment." The apartment in the city center is on the Thirty-eighth Floor. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling window stretched the bustling city nightscape, neon lights casting flowing shadows upon the glass. Charles Johnson embraced me from behind, his chin resting atop my head: "Do you like it? You can stay here often from now on." I gazed at our overlapping shadows on the windowpane and was suddenly seized by a profound estrangement. "Why did you suddenly buy me an apartment?" I heard my own voice quiver. He chuckled softly, his kiss landing on my earlobe: "Afraid you'd grow bored shut away in the villa all the time."